


that girl is a hurricane

by Lirazel



Category: Crayon Pop (Band), Infinite (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirazel/pseuds/Lirazel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Hot trumps weird any day."</i>  In which Sungyeol is sexually frustrated and Minyoung may or may not be oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that girl is a hurricane

**Author's Note:**

> Crayon Pop and Infinite aren’t promoting at the same time, and who knows whether behind-the-scenes of filming a kdrama would allow for private dressing rooms or this much down time, but whatever. This is for Ranya, and the line about thanking Chrome is stolen from her.
> 
> For those of you who don’t know:  
> 
> 
> This is my girl Ellin. Her real name is Minyoung and she likes to eat and doesn’t like to wear pants and she’s my favorite dudebro. Any questions?

The girl who opens the door isn’t wearing any pants.

She’s got on a long, baggy t-shirt that she quite possibly isn’t wearing a bra under and normally that would be getting all of his attention but he’s kind of distracted by other things because _she’s not wearing any pants_. Her hair is unbrushed and really a mess and she’s got really dorky huge glasses on but it doesn’t matter because _she’s not wearing any pants_. Sungyeol knows that she’s in Crayon Pop and that he knows her names—stage and real—just like he does those of every hot girl in the industry, but he can’t for the life of him remember what they are because _she’s not wearing any pants_. She’s just wearing that t-shirt and the glasses and a pair of polka dot socks but the hem of the t-shirt skims the top of her thighs just inches below...and _she’s not wearing any pants_. And he probably should like say hi or ask where Minjin is or at least drag his eyes back up to her face, but all he can do is stare at the smooth skin of her thighs because _she’s not wearing any pants_.

She cocks her hip—which makes the hem of her t-shirt shift even _higher_ , holy _fuck_ —and says something Sungyeol only vaguely registers, something like, “Oh, Infinite sunbaenim. Which one are you again? One of the Sungs?” but he can’t answer because he’s still staring because _she’s not wearing any pants_. 

Suddenly she—what the hell is her name?—stumbles to the side, jerking Sungyeol’s attention away from her thighs just long enough for him to see that Minjin has appeared beside her and shoved her in the direction of a pair of shorts that are flung over the back of a chair. “Oh my God, Minyoung, put on some pants already, you’re going to kill Sungyeol.”

Minyoung. That’s her name. He’ll probably forget it within the next two seconds if she keeps standing there with no pants on, but for the moment it’s nice to know it. She beams up at him, though somehow he doesn’t think the smile is really about him at all, and look at that—she only has half eyebrows too. “Sungyeol! I knew it was one of the Sungs!”

Minjin takes Sungyeol by the arm and pulls him into the dressing room, closing the door behind him. “You did not, Min, you were just guessing.”

“Well, the odds were three in seven, which I’ll take.”

Sungyeol is still staring at Minyoung’s thighs, golden and firm and soft-looking, and he’s really hoping she’ll turn around so he can get a view of her ass, which he already knows is great, because he may or may not have checked it out a couple of times while she was doing that “Bar Bar Bar” dance in front of him on stage or at idol sports day, watching and waiting for each time the skirt flew up enough for him to see the shape of her ass in the sweats underneath. Okay, so that makes him sound more than a little like a pervert, but she’s _hot_ and Sungyeol has _needs_. And he’d like to personally thank Chrome Ent for the choreography that’s shaped that _amazing_ ass which he would really, really like to catch a glimpse of if she’d only just turn around.... 

But Minjin barks, “Minyoung! Pants!” and drags Sungyeol over to the couch and he hears Minyoung sigh behind him and then a rustle of fabric that’s probably her picking up the shorts, and he really, really, really wants to see her put them on, but even he isn’t so shameless that he’ll actually turn around to watch her. He lets Minjin push him down onto the sofa and immediately crosses his legs to cover the tightness in his jeans. Not that it does any good, if Minjin’s unimpressed expression is anything to go by, but Sungyeol is good at feigning innocence. 

“Let me grab my script,” Minjin says, because oh yeah, that’s why Sungyeol is in her dressing room: to run lines together. For that drama they’re in together. Right. Sungyeol looks down at his own hand and realizes he’s clutching his script so hard that it’s half crumpled and he brings it to his leg, smoothing it out against his thigh as best he can. ( _Thighs_.) He has to focus and do this, because he’s a professional.

Except that that’s really hard because Minyoung has flopped down on the other end of the couch and when he glances over she’s propped her feet up on the chair in front of her and her legs are still amazing even if she’s wearing shorts now and normally he would be a really big fan of those shorts because they don’t cover up a whole lot, but just a second ago she wasn’t wearing any pants at all and a not-insignificant part of his brain is still running through possibilities of what she’s wearing under that t-shirt (and honestly a pair of cotton briefs would be just as hot as a g-string, he’s not picky, hell, even granny panties wouldn’t turn him off) and he ends up wrinkling up his script _again_ because his arms are long enough that he wouldn’t barely have to reach at all to be able to touch her thighs and she sits with her legs apart like a guy and what if she’d sat like that earlier when she didn’t have any pants on?

“Why are you even here, Minyoung?” Minjin demands, coming back from the table in the far corner with her (unwrinkled) script in hand. “Weren’t you supposed to be practicing?”

Minyoung leans forward and picks up a half-finished cup of ramyun from the chair where her feet are resting and starts poking the noodles with her chopsticks. “I got tired of listening to Hyekyung be bossy and watching Moobin follow after Boram-unnie like a puppy, so I thought I’d visit you.” She takes a huge bite of noodles, slurping the ends into her mouth and puffing her cheeks up and honestly it’s really gross the way some of the smaller bits of noodle stick to her lips but somehow Sungyeol can’t look away, horrified (sure) fascination keeping him captivated even when Minjin says, “Minyoung, wipe your face,” and Minyoung wipe the bits of noodles off of her mouth with the back of her hand and then eats them. 

“I don’t know why you came here, though, I’m _working_ ,” Minjin says. “I’ve got to be on set in twenty minutes and Sungyeol and I were going to run lines first and I don’t really have time to play with you.”

Minyoung gives her a jaunty smile. “Don’t mind me, I’m just eating.”

“You’re almost done.”

“I have another couple of cups in my backpack.”

Minjin looks amused but her tone is exasperated as she opens her script. “Whatever. Sungyeol? You gonna be able to actually do this?”

“Uh, yeah, noona, of course,” he assures her, but he catches her rolling her eyes more than once as he stumbles over lines he’d delivered perfectly when he and Woohyun were in the van this morning. 

 

 

The next time Sungyeol comes to Minjin’s dressing room to run lines, Minjin herself opens the door, a blast of enthusiastic pop music issuing from behind her, and Sungyeol tries not to feel a lurch of disappointment—disappointment that melts away completely when he takes a step into the room and sees Minyoung in the corner doing one of Crayon Pop’s ridiculous dances. Okay, he still prefers, like, Sistar or miss A when it comes to girl group choreo, but he has always thought Crayon Pop’s stuff is awesome in a hilarious way, and he thinks he might be changing his mind about what choreo he prefers because, sure, the moves themselves aren’t so sexy, but Minyoung is wearing a t-shirt that’s at least three sizes too big, the neck of it so loose that it’s slipping down off her shoulder and he doesn’t see the strap of a bra anywhere and _skin_. And bouncing. Without a bra. (Sungyeol is a master at determining when women are bra-less, strap-hints or otherwise, at least when he’s not distracted by a lack of pants, and she’s definitely not wearing one.)

“Minyoung, turn that off, Sungyeol and I need to practice now.”

Minyoung does one more move that wouldn’t be anything like hot if her shirt didn’t look like it was about to fall right off her body and then bounces over to switch off the music, and she’s wearing shorts this time and the t-shirt is almost as long, but he can still get an idea of the curve of her ass as he watches her go, and Minjin slaps him on the arm and says, “Are you actually going to be able to form words like an adult this time?” and Sungyeol really doesn’t know. But then Minjin kicks Minyoung out and Sungyeol makes himself concentrate and he only messes up his lines once (er, a couple of times) when he finds himself imagining what would have happened if t-shirt actually had slipped right off of Minyoung.

 

 

“Want to run lines later, noona?” Sungyeol asks after the director yells cut and the makeup noona rushes over to pat at the sweat off of his hairline with a tissue. 

“None of our scenes tomorrow are together,” Minjin says, taking a swig of water from a bottle handed over by an assistant. 

“I know, but we can do both of our scenes and it’s good to practice.”

“Minyoung has a schedule today.”

Sungyeol is usually good at playing off awkward moments and turning them into something funny, but for once he finds himself totally blanking on anything to say at all. “Uh…”

“If you’re wanting to see her, you don’t have to pretend to want to spend time with me, Sungyeol.” Minjin doesn’t look irritated—if anything, he thinks he sees some amusement on her face, but he still feels guilty.

“That’s not it, noona—”

“I don’t _care_ , really—I already rejected you, right?—but your excuses are kind of obvious, you know.”

A few years ago, Sungyeol’s pride would be pinched by the reminder of yet another rejection, but honestly he’s used to it by now. It happened with Hyerin years ago, and Yejin after she first debuted, then with Jihyun on _Love Poten_ and, yeah, again with Minjin a couple of weeks ago, and Minjin’s had hurt the least. He’d started flirting with her right after the first read-through and she’s just said, “I’m not interested,” so matter-of-factly that he couldn’t decide whether to be offended or not, but she immediately launched into a discussion about the World Cup so he didn’t even have time to feel sorry for himself. He’d have been irritated if she said she just wanted to be friends, but instead she showed it by...just being his friend and carrying on as if he’d never hit on her in the first place. He respected her honesty. He hadn’t really thought it would go anywhere, but hot girl in his vicinity means Sungyeol _has_ to at least try. 

And he’s honest, too, so he doesn’t lie and say he hasn’t thought about Minyoung at all since their last two encounters, even though that’s probably the polite thing to do. Instead he just says, “I’d still like to run lines, noona,” and he means it. Yeah, he wouldn’t say no to getting another chance to check out Minyoung, but Minjin is a pretty great person who he actually likes to spend time with and any practice he can get is a good thing. They run lines and Minjin makes him laugh and he can hear Woohyun’s voice in the back of his head saying, _Every girl you meet has to friend-zone you immediately, but at least you actually do become friends with them afterwards_. You can’t have too many friends, really. And Minjin is really great.

 

 

 

The next time he sees Minyoung, it’s not in the dressing room but backstage at an interview and her hair is brushed and her face made up and she’s wearing a handkerchief tied over her head like an ahjumma and also a bra and pants and all the other clothing considered necessary for a woman in public. Unfortunately. “Hello, one-of-the-Sungs-sunbae-nim,” she says, and her mouth is full of some kind of granola bar or something, and it’s gross, really gross, but he doesn’t look away.

“It’s Sungyeol.”

“Oh, I know.” She swallows down her mouthful of whatever. “Minjin’s getting her makeup retouched.”

“Okay,” he says, because he can’t think of anything else to say that isn’t, _I was actually looking for you_. 

She cocks her head to the side and he notices that her eyebrows are drawn in and he wonders if he should tell her that getting them tattooed on actually doesn’t hurt that much. “She likes working with you.”

It’s the polite thing to say, but somehow Sungyeol doesn’t think she would have said it if she hadn’t meant it. And it’s nice to hear. “I like working with her,” he answers.

“She says you’re funny.”

“I try,” he says without thinking, but it makes her laugh, and it’s a little throaty and, shit, she’s really pretty, even with an ahjumma handkerchief tied under her chin and the memory of her talking with her mouth full in his mind. 

“The drama’s kind of terrible, isn’t it? We make fun of Minjin all the time. But you’re good in it.” And then she slugs him on the arm like Myungsoo does when he’s pretending to be annoyed, only harder—it almost hurts—and says, “Sungyeol-sunbae-nim hwaiting!” and then she’s hurrying away and her pants aren’t nearly as tight as he wishes they were, but her ass is still amazing, and Sungyeol is really fucked.

 

 

 

When the director yells cut and Sungyeol walks away from the lights and the cameras, Woohyun is making Minyoung laugh. They’re standing over in the shade of a tree, Woohyun in his uniform for the drama, Minyoung in a pair of tights that probably make her already-amazing ass look even more amazing, but she’s facing him so he can’t see it, and Woohyun is doing some of his weird aegyo, all bunny ears and squeaky noises, and Minyoung is laughing with all her teeth showing and her eye smile is—

“Hey, Yeol, you looked great out there,” Woohyun says when he notices Sungyeol standing there, because of course he does. Woohyun is nothing if not supportive. Woohyun is also one of his best friends, but right now Sungyeol kind of wants to punch him in his greasy face.

“Hi, sunbae-nim!” Minyoung is still all teeth and eye smiles. “Are you done filming?”

“For the next hour or so, yeah. Maybe longer if Woohyun has to do a million takes,” he answers and then immediately wishes he hadn’t added that last—so Woohyun was making hot-girl-with-amazing-ass-who-doesn’t-wear-pants laugh, that doesn’t mean he deserves for Sungyeol to be all passive-aggressive at him. But Woohyun doesn’t look hurt, merely waggles his eyebrows at him.

“Minyoung-ssi was telling me about her new video game she just got. I think it’s that one you’ve been wanting to play?” Woohyun says, and he _knows_. Of course he does. Sungyeol will have to kill him.

“Yeah, I brought it with me! Want to go to Minjin’s dressing room and play it till you have to film again?”

A hot girl is asking him to play video games with her. Hell, he wouldn’t say no if a hot girl asked him to get a root canal with her. “Yeah, sure.” Woohyun waggles his eyebrows some more and Sungyeol isn’t sure whether he wants to punch him or hug him. Maybe he’ll just smack his dick later; that’s always hilarious.

They end up side-by-side on the couch in Minjin’s dressing room, and Minyoung moves around a _lot_ when she plays so sometimes her arm brushes against his as she practically rolls around on the couch and shouts at the screen, and she keeps eating from a bag of chips (she offers some to him, but he refuses, ignoring the twinges in his stomach) and spilling crumbs all over her shirt and talking with her mouth full, and she thoroughly kicks his ass and then slugs him hard on the shoulder with a greasy fist in celebration, but still, when Sungyeol is called to go film, he’s reluctant to go for the first time in his life.

 

 

 

The next time they’re backstage somewhere, Minyoung waves at him violently from across the room and then stumbles over on huge heels looking like a giraffe trying to walk on ice or something. She almost falls over just as she reaches him, and Sungyeol has to catch her under the elbows and steady her and he hopes frantically that his hands haven’t broken out in a sweat against her soft skin, but if they have, she doesn’t say anything, just shakes her hair out of her face and pulls out her (very pink and glittery) phone. “Woops. You were fun to play video games with, sunbae-nim—Minjin’s right: you are funny. Can I get your kakaotalk ID?”

Sungyeol is pretty sure he tells her the right letters in the right order. Pretty sure.

 

 

 

“You can sit on Sleeping Beauty if you want. I’m tired of her snoring,” Minjin says when Sungyeol follows her into the dressing room. Line-reading again. And Minyoung is conked out on the couch, a tangle of long limbs and long hair, some [weird contraption](http://oi62.tinypic.com/2lmuyvl.jpg) over her mouth and chin with strings looping over her ears.

“What the hell is that?” Sungyeol asks and he’s staring again, like he always is when she’s in the room, but it’s different this time. Maybe.

“It’s to keep her mouth closed while she sleeps. She’s the queen of drool.”

It looks like some kind of medieval torture device and Sungyeol thinks it’s nasty when Myungsoo drools all over him while they’re napping in the van, and this girl is so _weird_ , but he can’t help but being hyper-aware whenever she’s in the room and somehow his dick is still responding even with that weird no-drool thing taking over her face. 

Minjin lunges at sleeping Minyoung with a loud, “ _Yah_!” and Minyoung jerks awake—and jerks herself upright so that she bangs her head against Minjin’s. Minjin lets out a cry and rubs her forehead, but Minyoung moans and buries her head into her lap for five whole minutes.

“She’s also the queen of menboong,” Minjin says, and Sungyeol thinks he probably shouldn’t find that as adorable as he does. But then again: Kim Myungsoo king of menboong is his best friend and that is the _last_ time he’s going to mentally compare Minyoung to Myungsoo. 

Minyoung finally peeks up at him from between strands of long hair, a sheepish grin on her face as she takes off the mouth-closing thing. “Hi, sunbae-nim.”

“Hi, Minyoung-ssi.”

 

 

 

“Who are you talking to?” Myungsoo asks, elbowing him in the ribs as Sungyeol types away on his phone.

“Whoever it is can’t possibly be that funny, hyung. That sound you make when you try not to laugh is like an animal being suffocated.”

Sungyeol ignores Sungjong; it’s late and their maknae always gets cranky when he hasn’t had enough sleep; there’s no use getting pulled into a fight he won’t win. Besides, he’s much more interested in the ridiculousness on his phone.

“Yeol, who is it?” Myungsoo insists, poking him this time. Sungyeol bats his hand away.

“I bet it’s Minyoung,” Woohyun says, the jerk, and Sungyeol can _hear_ his grin even though Woohyun is behind him.

“From Crayon Pop?” Dongwoo asks, sounding interested where a few moments before he’d been staring blank-eyed out the window and singing Fly to the Sky songs under his breath.

“Yeol’s got it for her _bad_. It’s hilarious.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Myungsoo mutters in his ear, sounding hurt. Sungyeol’s best friend is so _needy_.

He really wants to not talk about this at all, but there’s nothing sadder than a droopy Myungsoo, so he says, “There isn’t anything to tell,” and goes back to typing.

“She’s hot,” Dongwoo says.

“Hotter than Yejin?” Howon asks, baring his canines.

Dongwoo’s ears are only a little bit pink when he answers. “No one’s hotter than Yejin.” He lifts his voice. “Are you two friends, Yeollie? I didn’t know.”

“She keeps showing up at Minjin-noona’s dressing room barely clothed and nearly killing Sungyeol,” Woohyun announces, still grinning widely. “Minjin-noona told me.”

“Shit, I wish she’d be barely clothed around me.” Howon, of course. Sungyeol forces himself to ignore him.

“Isn’t she weird, though?” That’s Sunggyu, finally deigning to enter the conversation. “I heard she was weird.”

“You’re in a band with Myungsoo and Dongwoo-hyung,” Howon says flatly. “Are you really one to criticize weird? Besides, hot trumps weird any day.”

“She just doesn’t seem very ladylike,” Sunggyu says, which makes Dongwoo burst into laughter. 

“How old are you, halapoji? What century is this? Who cares about ladylike?”

Sunggyu is right, though; for all Minyoung likes pink glittery things, she’s not very ladylike. She eats more than Myungsoo and talks with her mouth full and has the dorkiest glasses ever and has to wear that thing to keep herself from drooling while she sleeps and can barely walk in heels and keeps sending him the most bizarre internet videos and only half of her messages make any sense to him and she keeps slugging him really hard at exactly the same spot on his arm till he’s pretty sure he’s going to develop a permanent bruise there and she’s really, really hot and really, really fun and Sungyeol is really, really fucked.

 

 

 

Sungyeol is walking back to the dressing room after Infinite gets finished performing, mopping sweat off of the back of his neck and following Dongwoo, when suddenly a hand grabs his arm and he’s yanked sidewise and out of the hall. He blinks in the dim light as a door closes behind him and gapes at Minyoung, who’s standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“Hi, sunbae-nim.”

“Uh, hi, Minyoung-ssi?”

She raises her eyebrows—penciled in—expectantly and Sungyeol tries to figure out what’s going on. She’d been in her ahjumma get up earlier while Crayon Pop were performing, but now she’s back in a dress that’s almost short enough to be a shirt and her hair has somehow managed to become bedraggled already.

“Well?” she says.

“Well what?” he asks, because he really has no clue what it is she’s waiting for.

She lets out a profound sigh. “Are you ever going to jump me or not?”

Sungyeol can do nothing but gape, his mind completely blank.

And then Minyoung rolls her eyes and takes a step towards him and _jumps_ and then her legs (her amazing, amazing legs) are around his waist and her arms around his neck and she’s attacking him with her mouth and the kiss is really way too aggressive to actually be good but it doesn’t matter because it’s _fucking amazing_ and Minyoung is _kissing him_ and Sungyeol stumbles back into the door behind him and slams his elbow against the doorknob and jerks away from Minyoung’s mouth long enough to let out a shriek and Minyoung yanks at his hair and pulls his mouth back to hers and he can’t help it, he has to slide his hands under her ass—just to support her, of course!—and they’re making out and Sungyeol can barely stay upright and when her mouth slides away from his and she bites down on the place where his neck and shoulder meet, he actually falls over and of course she ends up on top of him and knocking all the air out of him but she takes the change of location totally in stride, and Sungyeol’s never made out on the floor before, and he really can’t breathe at all and he might pass out at any moment but he really doesn’t care.

 

 

 

“If you look like that after you two have just been making out,” Woohyun says when he finds him, running his eyes over Sungyeol’s mussed and panting form, “how the hell are you going to survive if you two have sex?”

Sungyeol just manages not to trip over his own feet.


End file.
